Addicted
by Crimson Waterfall
Summary: DISCONTINUED Duo: 'My life is falling apart, I am meeting a dead end here, all because my son can't keep his hands off drugs... isn't there anyone out there who understands' AU 2x1
1. Chapter 1

**Oh no, not again!**

ADDICTED 

**Chapter ONE**

**Hey... I'm Duo**

Friday night. A dark and wet night. Tonight will be his first time. And he was nervous like people always were when they did something for the first time. He was afraid how people would react to him, react to the story he had to tell. He was always afraid how he will react to their stories. To their presence. He was never one to open up to people, not at all. Though most of his time he spent talking. Talking, but not saying anything. Talking about the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees. All those useless things that no one was interested in. This time he WOULD say something, a lot actually, to complete strangers that... even though he will talk to them once every week, will always remain strangers.

He felt guilty for leaving the house. Just before he left, when he went to grab his scarf and jacket, for it was winter already, how time flies... He had cried. Then and there in the hallway as he looked at himself in the mirror while wrapping the scarf around his neck. He was a ghost, but he had denied it for so long... He didn't look in a mirror for a very long time. His appearance shocked him.

After crying for a good five minutes, he was silent, listening. Waiting to hear if someone heard him, but no sound came from above. He avoided the mirror, he avoided himself.

He parked the car in the parking lot after an half an hour drive. His fingers were stiff, freezing and as pale as his face. No, not pale, they were blue. The heating in the car refused to go on. He had to remember to bring gloves the next time.

He sat in his car for a while, convincing himself that going back home was not a good idea. If only it was for the sake of his fingers, he really needed to go into that building! He glanced at his reflection in the rear view mirror, that only showed his eyes. His eyes, his amethyst coloured eyes. The only thing about his face that hadn't changed over the past two years were their colour. Their bright colour. How it did not fade in these times he did not know. What he did know was how terrible he looked. Black rings under his eyes from the many sleepless nights and his eyes had sunk further into his skull since he didn't ate a decent meal in over nine months.

He was startled by a black car, coming to stand next to his. In it was an older couple. Fifty or so. As the woman got out of the car she met his staring gaze, but quickly looked the other way. He mouth opened, she said something to the man, her husband, with her, but he didn't hear it through the glass. They left, heading inside the building.

He stared up ahead, pried his frozen fingers from the steering wheel and gave his reflection one last look before finally leaving the car. He shivered as the cold outside was even worse then in the car. With a hastened pace he walked to the door.

"Discussion Groups" The letters on the glass door told him. He opened it and welcomed the warmth that enveloped him as soon as he stepped inside. He warmed his fingers, rubbing then against his jeans. The friction was relieving and they slowly regained their natural colour. A middle-aged woman guided him to a room in the back of a hall. It was a rather large room, but not really decorated, in the corners there were plants and there was one large window that snowed the shuddering branches of a young tree outside, struggling in the cold wind. The lighting was bright and he realised that in this lighting the rings under his eyes will look even blacker.

In the middle of the room was a circle of cheap, uncomfortable looking chairs. The first thing he did was count the number of chairs. Ten. But that didn't mean ten people would show up. It could be more or less. Chairs could always be added.

He sat down in the chair in which he could stare outside at the tree that someway symbolised himself. He to was struggling against something he knew he could not stop. He too was still young, but the circumstances made him look old. Like the tree, he had also shed his leaves, his youth, everything he valued in life. Just because of the 'Wind' that was making life so damn hard.

The couple that had parked their car next to his walked in and they gave each other a nod as a poor excuse of a greeting. They sat down in the chairs opposite of his, that annoyed him. Because each time he looked outside at the tree, the woman would look up at him, thinking he was staring at them.

He looked at his watch, even though he had been doubting so much in his hallway and in the car he was still five minutes early. Which was not good. He knew himself and he knew that if he had to wait too long he would start doubting again and his fears would always win over. To distract himself he started to busy himself with counting the little amount of money he carried in his wallet.

When done, more people entered the room, all taking their places in the circle. Two more couples came in, of his age. Then two single women. Then the Guider, who lead the conversations came in. She looked at all of them, then at the one chair unoccupied and sure, just as he thought, she went out of the room and returned carrying another chair she put in the circle. Then sat down.

The last one came in exactly at half past nine, a man of his age. He sat down in the last unoccupied chair and a few moments of silence reined before the 'Guider' started.

'As you can all see we have a knew parent in our middle. Duo.' She held her hand pointedly out to Duo. Everyone looked his way and he shyly sagged away further in his chair. 'So I suggest we all introduce ourselves to make him feel more comfortable. I am Patricia, forty-nine years young. I'm the guider of this group. My daughter was a drug addict for five years and is now in an institute.'

He took his deep breath and looked at the couple sitting next to the guider, it was their time to share their story.

'Martha and Stu. Fifty and fifty one years old.' The woman introduced for the both of them. They wore neat clothing, old fashioned. Not the kind of people you would expect to see here. 'Our three sons are all using, one worse then other. Are oldest lives in a squat as he refuses to live with us. He despises us.' She remorsefully said, but she maintained control over her emotions.

The next couple Len and Hank, the one who parked their car next to his, had a daughter, addicted to heroine and was pulled into prostitution in order to pay for her daily dose.

Next was a single woman, she was young, became a mother when she was only a child herself and now had to cope with her thirteen year old doing all it took to get a shot.

The last couple were Forest and Cliff, he estimated them fifty, but they were thirty-nine. Worry had caused their face to elder more then they did. Their sixteen year old son used and dealt drugs, the police was on their doorstep every month.

The other single woman, Lindsay, looked the worst of all, he curly blond hair was mess and her rings even darker then Duo's but she claimed to be thirty-six. Her son, Matthew, used more drugs then he could pay, also living in a squat. Many drugs dealers, whom he owed money, came to her house and smashed the windows, threatening to kill her if she didn't immediately say were to find either her son or the money. She had bought a gun, but not for the threatening dealers, but for her son, to shoot him if he came to her house one more time to beg for money.

At last there was the boy who had entered right on time. His face looked dead, dark rings, but he still had something so boyish. When he was fifteen he got his girlfriend pregnant and she left him the baby, a son. The boy became addicted to drugs and died on an overdose a year ago. The father, Heero, he introduced himself as, thirty-four years old, was still haunted by the many men whom his son owed money, much like with Lindsay.

Now it was his turn, and everyone waited expectantly. The guider asked him to make his story more elaborate then the rest had done, so that she could orient better on it.

He felt nervous and sweaty, but he could not refuse to speak, it would be unfair to the rest who had shared their painful stories him. 'Hey... I'm Duo, thirty-five years old. My sixteen year old son, David... got addicted two years ago. He had grown so much... he looked so much older... so he befriended some Bennie, who was four years older then him. When he started using... he became so lazy... he got kicked out of school, couldn't get work and after the laziness there was aggression. Breaking down the house, screaming... He ran away, then came back begging for money, then ran away again... And every time he came home he promised my wife and I that he would stop using.'

The others nodded, their children had probably done the same and that made him feel relieved that it was not only his son who was lying against his own parents, who had supported him for so long.

'We fell for it every time... False hope... We were so busy with David that we neglected our other two children... my family started to fall apart, I could see it, but all I ever worried about was my oldest son. I thought he was just sick... that with a bit of help everything would be alright... After a year my wife couldn't take it anymore. We were both depressed and I was overworked. We divorced. She got all custody over my two youngest children... And I got David... I feel disgusted with myself when I think back at how much I hated that...

He is currently at home. Sleeping his days away... then going out in the evening, coming back when the sun almost rises again, so stoned he can't make it upstairs and falls down on the couch... I am desperate... I really don't know what to do with him! One moment I can sympathise, I pity him and I give him everything he asks for like I am his slave... And then my mood jumps and I feel so angry that I kick him out the door! But he never makes it past the corner of the street... because that is when I cave and beg him to come back... He is still so young you know? ...' He let out a deep breath and looked down at his hands in his lap. Thinking back at all the things he had done wrong.

The introduction gad taken up the entire hour and he felt guilty for the others, who probably hadn't learnt anything from his whining, but still had to pay.

On the way back home he drove extra slowly. He didn't want to go home, no matter how uncomfortable he felt in that discussion room he had rather stayed there. Watching that tree as if watching himself. The stories of the other haunted him. One of them even died from overdose! He could already picture David, lying lifeless in his bed, not very surprising since he always lay in bed till three O'clock, if not later. But the though that he would dead and he wouldn't know because David lying long in bed was not unusual terrified him. He could not imagine how he would react. But maybe he should. He already lost his son. David, the real David, the small boy who cried a lot but all was better in the arms of his young father, had died two years ago, when he started to use. David died and that poor excuse of a human being ruining Duo's life was nothing but a mere stranger. That was how it felt.

But still he could not deny it was his child and he would do anything for his child. What kind of parent would not?

Entering his home he listened again. It was silent. He went up stairs to check on his son, who was lying sprawled in his bed, staying home on a night for the first time since months. Maybe he had found out his father was going to a discussion group? He sighed, beaten as he saw a full ashtray on his sons bedside table. His clothes were strewn over the floor, there was so much you could not even see the blue soft carpet under the mess anymore. The blue carpet Duo had laid there himself, with his own hands while his ten year old David was watching in awe as his father was constructing the dream room he had told him he wanted when they moved in this house. He started to clean up, trying to busy himself like he always did with simple daily task. Picking up the discarded clothes throwing them on a pile in the corner he would take downstairs later. He emptied the trashcan, there was more in it then just cigarette stumps but he stubbornly told himself it was just candy wrapping. Denial. He had been in denial for so long it had become a part of him. Finished, he sat down in a corner of the large bedroom. He felt drained, he felt like crying.

'Boys don't cry...' He whispered to himself. 'Boys don't cry.'

He kept repeating that to himself while tears were running down his cheeks.

**TBC...**

"**Crimson Waterfall! Why do you keep posting new stories instead of continuing existing ones!"**

"**I know, I am sorry, but my muse for those stories abandoned me! While new ideas keep flooding in! But next week I have a week off, I'll promise to work harder then!"**

"**You better!"**

**Meanwhile you folks can review on this one –pretty please with cherry on top?-**

**- One very Distressed C.W.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Crimson Waterfall is back with:**

**ADICTED**

**Chapter 2**

**Sickening hope**

For months he lived off the stories he heard every Friday night. He didn't do much of the talking, he just listened to the others and Patricia, the discussion leader, said that that was probably what he needed most. Hearing the stories of others.

The stories gave him back a bit of common sense and he felt so much better on the way back home. But as soon as he came home to his empty house, his nerves started to wake up and he was only able to think sensibly again when his son came home. He would drag the high and sick boy up to his room and put him into bed. He didn't even try to get him out of his clothes anymore, it had become something similar like sharing a cage with a lion while having beef strapped around your neck. Lethal.

'Don't touch me!' David screamed as Duo tried to get of his shirt. When Duo didn't listened, fuelled by anger. It soon went wrong. He fell back when his suddenly felt a stinging pain in his cheek. His son had hit him! Shocked, he locked up.

'Get out of my room!' David screamed with hoarse voice. Somewhere he found the strength to get up and even enough to kick his father while he struggled to get off the floor.

Duo fled out of the room, holding his cheek and limping from the kick. He ran downstairs, all the was to the kitchen and hid behind a wall, sagging down on the floor then silently bursting out into tears. He shivered violently and hours after he vibrated himself to sleep. He was so scared. So scared of his own son. He fought of sleep for as long as he could, in fear of what David would do to him when he would find him tomorrow, huddling behind a wall in the kitchen.

'I made you breakfast.' It was a week after he had cried himself to sleep in the kitchen, the next day he bought a lock for on the door of his bedroom. David only left his room to eat nowadays. Maybe, maybe he realised how bad this whole drugs thing was. Maybe he was trying to stop? Yeah and maybe that's why he locks himself into his room. Just as all, well most of, the other parents in the discussion group, he remained hopeful. Something Heero had called 'sickening'.

'I need money.' David grounded up, sitting down at the dinner table. His blue eyes, now faded to grey, stared lifelessly up ahead.

Maybe it is the lack of drugs. Duo said to himself, even though it was clear his son was higher then the empire state building. He smiled, that sure is a funny comparison.

'Why are you smiling like a geek!' David shot angrily at him, shaking Duo out of his thoughts that took him back to when David was young and innocent.

'What'ya do! Stole drugs from me! Huh! Did you?' He stood up and after his growth he reached a good 6.2 feet, glowering over Duo's 5.11.

Cautious, he took a step back. The glass of juice was shaking in his hand while he tried to maintain his fear. Never, ever show him your fear of him, never show him that under the surface he is the one in control, Regina, who became mother when she was still just a child, had once told him.

He was grabbed by his collar and pulled closer. He scrunched up his face, expecting a blow to either the face or the stomach and the smell of David's breath was sickening. He couldn't help but wonder, like any other parent, how long it had been since he had brushed his teeth. He didn't dare to ask.

David snorted, then let him go. 'I need money.' He repeated.

Duo took a deep breath, this was the moment that had come to him almost every week and it was the moment he most feared. He had to deny him. He will only spent it on drugs, that he realised. He no longer believed the stories that his bike was stolen or that he would buy groceries.

It almost made him laugh thinking that only weeks ago he really was that naive. How much he had grown since the discussion group... It was definitely something worth mentioning tonight.

'I won't give it to you.' He said with his strictest of voices.

'Why not!'

'You know why David. Don't play stupid with me... I'm better at him.' He mentally gave himself a pat on the shoulder. Making a joke maybe lightened the mood?

'Give. Me. Money.' He ordered.

He swallowed, then repeated what he said before, but now empathising every word.

'I'll get either way, whether you give it to me freely or not.'

Freely or not? He started to sweat. Was he going to threaten him? 'I hid the money.' Maybe this will stop him from trying anything.

David snorted again, like an angry bull. 'Why! Don't you trust me! What kind of a father doesn't trust his own son!'

'A father whose son is on drugs. A father who knows his son has been stealing money from him. So much that almost wasn't able to pay the rent!'

The sound of a smack echoed through the kitchen.

Duo didn't move, even though the force of the blow caused his face to look the other way. He did not move. It was the only thing he could do to stop from bursting out into tears.

'You worthless piece of shit! Is this what they tell you to do in that group! Let your son starve!'

'I offered you breakfast...' Duo timidly fought back.

'This tasteless slap of bread with cheese! Don't I deserve better! Didn't mom deserve better!'

'Don't blame the divorce all on me David!'

'Give me money!'

'NO!' He looked back at his son fiercely. A fire burning in his eyes that had long been gone. It must have startled David that he really wasn't able to win this fight, he stumbled back a step and then left the house. Before slamming the door he yelled: 'I'll get my money!'

Suddenly very tired he sagged down in a chair, folded his hands on the table and lay his head on them. The thought crossed his head that he could leave. He could pack his bags and go. But he knew he never really could and he would hate himself forever if he did.

He took a deep breath, just like a person did to stop hyperventilating. Composed he stood to make himself a cup of coffee and he spent the rest of the day in the kitchen, waiting for David to come home.

But he never did.

The coffee was not enough to calm his nerves, not even the fifth cup. He was already late for the discussion group, there was no sense in trying to make it now. But that didn't mean he didn't have the craving to speak to someone. He remembered Patricia telling him that he should come clean to his adoptive mother. She said that she would understand and wouldn't judge his parenting as he feared. But how could Patricia now? She never met Helen, the woman who adopted him when he was caught after roaming the streets the first ten years of his life. Helen, the woman who believed that God was with all his children, always, to keep them on the right path. He didn't know how to tell her that god was too busy with other children to keep her grandson from turning to 'The Dark Side'.

He thought back of his time with her, how she had slowly turned him from streetrat to gentlemen. He hated her in the beginning, he could tolerate her after a year, he liked her after two and after three he finally embraced her love and gave her his. She had always been there for him, after her whole family was dying on her, leaving her and her sister to cope on their own. So why couldn't he stand by Davids side?

He was a lousy father.

He jumped in his seat when the phone rang. Expecting it to be Patricia, to ask why he wasn't there, he took his time to pick up.

'Hello, Duo speaking.'

'Mr. Maxwell?' A male voice asked, he sounded annoyed.

'Speaking.'

'Are you the father of David Jacob Maxwell?'

His eyes widened, who was this man, a cop! 'Y-yes...' He wasn't sure he now wanted to be.

'Could you please come down to the police station.'

'Oh my god! Something happened! Is David alright!' He asked, panicked. What could he have done? Or was David the victim? And what happened! Why didn't man answer him dammit!

'Just come down to the station, mr. Maxwell and please hurry, you're son is hard to control.'

'I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!' Was heard in the background, definitely David's voice.

Duo sighed and shook his head. 'I'll be there.' Without a polite goodbye he hung up the phone and strode to the hallway. He didn't take the time to put on gloves and a scarf, just a coat to arm him against the cold outside.

The five minute drive to the station seemed to last forever and he was almost grateful he finally got there, thinking that the worst was over.

Opening the doors he was hit by the many sounds of people struggling and shouting at the agents holding them as they were brought to their temporary cells. Most of them were gangsters and he recognised the look in their eyes, it was the same of that of David when he last saw him. He looked at a gangster, walking past him, a cop holding his arms behind his back. He was one of the few not to struggle. He was chewing gum, nonchalantly, obviously used to this whole ordeal. As he walked past Duo he gave him a cold glare before turning his bald head to look at where he was going.

Duo swallowed, did he just had a glimpse into his sons future?

He approached a cop that didn't seem busy, only writing something down on in a book.

'I'm searching for David Maxwell?'

'Duo Maxwell?'

He nodded.

The cop closed the book and gave him a strict look, a look that screamed: You didn't raise your child properly. 'Follow me.'

The pushed their way past the youths and cops to a bar door. He opened the lock. After they walked through he locked it again.

They were in a hall, on either sides were cells. It looked like a kennel for abandoned dogs. It sounded like one two.

Some of the boys, many not older then sixteen. Made catcalls at him before making some comment about his hair. Others shouted at the cop, saying things to him not even the devil deserved to be called. A few arms came through the bars, trying to reach them like starving men, only when he followed the arm up to the face he saw evil grins and a diabolic sheen in their sick eyes.

'Here we are.' The cop stopped and pointed into one of the cells.

With a sigh, Duo nodded, confirming that amongst the three boys in that single cell was indeed his son. Another cop walked up to them before the door was opened and to get David out proved to be a problem as he didn't want to go to his father, but the other two were more then eager to leave.

After finally getting him out of the 'safety' of the cell the cop grabbed him roughly by the upper arm and lead both father and son back to the front to sit at a desk to fill in some paper work.

'What happened?' Duo asked his son when they finally sat down. He was boiling inside from anger, but he wasn't sure if he had the right to be angry. His 'sickening hope' forced him to believe this might not be his sons fault.

'He tried to rape a young girl.' The cop answered for him without looking up from his book he was currently writing in again.

Before Duo's shocked look turned into a raged one David protested.

'That's so not true! Don't believe the nigger dad!'

The cop looked up angrily, not at David, but at Duo. Thinking he raised his son as not only a rapist but also a racist.

He ignored his sons last comment 'You WHAT? You... Are you crazy!' The worst part was definitely not over. But then again: Could God be any more cruel to him! He averted his eyes, to disgusted to even look at David. This was not his son! What the fuck could drugs do more to ruin the lives of both of them!

'Dad! How can you believe this shit!'

He wasn't even listening, only the voice of the cop penetrated the barrier he had mentally placed over his ears.

'He is free to go, but he'll have to go to court if the victim will press charges.'

'I understand.' He said in trance. He stood up and ordered his son to come with him.

When they were finally in the car it took him a while to compose himself before he dared to start the car. A mad father in a moving vehicle... could there be anything more dangerous?

'I didn't do nothing wrong.' David said with slurring voice when they reached the first red light.

'That is just another way of saying that you did.' He retorted, still in trance. He noticed his calmness was freaking David out. Good.

'C'mon pops...'

'Pops? Since when do you call me that?' The trance broke 'Is that what drugs makes you do! Destroy lives, rape girls and call your father pops! From now on it is MR. MAXWELL for you! Do you have any idea what you've done!'

'I didn't try to rape her. She is making the whole story up.'

'REALLY!'

'Yeah! She was more then willing when we entered the ally.'

'An ally! DAVID!'

'Keep your eyes on the fucking road! You'll kill us both!'

'You mean like this!' Duo yanked at the steering wheel causing the car to go to the other side of the road, with traffic coming right towards them, for a split second. Cars honked furiously and David screamed as Duo pulled back just in time to avoid crashing into the nearing car, the headlights blinding the two of them.

'ARE YOU CRAZY! You are so sick! Why couldn't-'

'SHUT UP!'

David fell silent and looked at him like a goose looking into the barrel of a gun.

'From now on... no more drugs.'

'You think it's the drugs?'

'I sure hope so! Otherwise you deserve to be locked up forever!'

The reached the house but they both remained seated. Staring at the door of the garage in front of them.

'It's ruining not only your life David, but mine as wel...'

'...'

'The school called this afternoon... You wasted your second chance... your last chance.' Duo said sorrowfully, lowering his gaze to his hands which fumbled in his lap.

'Please don't yell at me...' David begged in a soft voice. A voice that reminded Duo of the young David.

'I won't... But there is now room for argument now David.' He grabbed his sons chin and gently forced him to look at him. 'You are going to better your life. You're gonna find a job and I decide where the money you make is spent on. So NO drugs, got it?'

David nodded, a tear leaving his eyes.

Duo gave him a reassuring smile but it soon faded. 'If things go wrong again... You're going to a rehabilitation centre, understood?'

He nodded.

'Good. Let's go inside. Tomorrow is a busy day. We're gonna find you a job and strip your room and redecorate it... We're gonna make a fresh start.'

David nodded again and Duo's heart clenched with hope. Maybe, it wasn't such a lost case as he thought.

**It sure did take a while so I'd appreciate reviews!**

**CW**


	3. Chapter 3

Oh! Crimson, you good dog, you!

Adicted

Chapter 3

'David, david wake up.' He walked into the room, stepping over all the different disgarded clothes and junk lying spread out over the floor. Carefully watching where he was going he safely made it to the window and jerked the thick green curtains open. He looked back, now into the sunlit room. He wandered just how long those curtains had been closed. Either way, the room was a mess, just like David. He had went straight to bed when they got home yesterday evening, but as always his lazy son refused to get out of bed.

'Come on David.' He pulled the, what was once, white blanket off his body. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the blankett and immediately threw it into the corner of the hurricane struck room.

David let out a pity full moan and did nothing but turn in his bed. He didn't need the blanket, the heating had heated the room up to the point of tropical climate. He was not at all cold in his boxers and white T-shirt. Duo didn't even dare to think or ask about how long he had been wearing the same boxer shirts. First things first. David needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes. He raided his closet for something decent left clean and threw it onto the bed.

'David!'

'I dun wanno go to school!' Came the mumbling voice from under the pilllow, since that was where he was hiding his head under.

'Well even if you did want to, you couldn't.' Duo strictly said. Tired of these games he grabbed Davids arm and used all his force to pull him out of his bed. With a thud David fell onto the white carpet... which was overall more brown and grey now after years of not cleaning.

As soon as he hit the floor, he sat upright, looking around himself in a daze. 'Wha-what!' He looked up, surprised to see his father towering over him.

'You need to get out of bed and take a shower. I'll start clearing out your room.' He tapped his foot a little impatiently as it took David oh so long to rise to his feet, once again having a height advantage, grabbing his clothes and sluggischly making his way over to the bathroom.

Duo looked around the disaster area with his hands on his hips. He bit his lip in agony. God knows what he might find. Cochroaches... rats... yet undiscovered forms of life ?

He pulled the entire matrass of the bed. There were tears in it, it needed replacement. He threw it onto the hallway. Next was the laundry. He started gathering it, noticing that most of the clothes were ripped and torn. Great. He threw them next to the matrass, it was easier to buy new clothes. Redocarting was gonna cost him most of his savings... he might as well empty the account.

The closets where unreadable words were scribbled onto were broken apart in a matter of minutes and took their rightful place in the hallway next to the other junk. A pile that was rising rapidly.

He decided to ignore the fact that it had been one and a half hour and David had yet to leave the shower. A good shower would do him good, he kept telling himself. He knew David had no drugs in there, but to a small part of his mind it was very obvious that David was stalling... he didn't want to help.

Another half hour later he stomped his way to the locked bathroom door and bonked loudly on it.

'What!'

'Hurry up would ya! I'm not doing this alone ya know!'

'I'ma comin' i'ma comin'!'

'Yeah, you better.' He mumbled softly, so that David wouldn't hear he was already losing his nerve with him. He made his way back to the room and started ripping the carpet off the floor. Thank god it was only glued to it on some places. The curtains were next to fall and then the old bed, where David had slept on since he was twelve, way too small for him, was taken apart. The junk was blocking the way to his own room, but he'd have David clean it up later on. It was his junk after all.

He found a black duffle bag, in the back of a closet that was built into the wall. He lifted it and heard rattling inside. Like... like pills rattling inside their bottles. He shook his head and threw the duffel onto the hall as well. Now the room was finally clear after three hours of intensive working. It was at least a comfort that he still had some power left in his body.

'Oh, you're already done...' David commented dryly, no sound of remorse in his voice.

'Yeah... let's go down stairs, take a break.'

'Yeah I can use one.' David said.

Duo gritted his teeth at the fact David didn't seemed to be joken. How tiring can a damn shower be! He wanted to ask. But he refrained himself. He'd do no good with it.  
He silently made an omelet for the two of them and was happily surprised to notice David was eager to set to table. Maybe he was wrong after all. They ate and after the few first bites David started to talk enthousiastically about what he wanted to do with his room.

'I want white walls... the green has to go. And maybe a wooden floor, oak or soemthing? What do you think dad? Oh and a two person bed under the large window. See through curtains, no thick ones, I want sunlight at any given time. A white closet... You know, i've been thinking... maybe some art? I really like those black and white photo's, they'd go great with the new interior. '

It was expensive, but he had saved a lot in case of either emergencies or holliday. He reckoned this counted as an emergency and so what if they couldn't go on vacation the next few years. It's not like they did before. And there were only two left now... That thought was meant to be comforting, but it wasn't. While David kept on talking, his own eyes wandered to the family portrait on the wall. His little girls... His beautiful wife... a yound and innocent David. God, where did it all go? Even Duo himself looked happy in the picture. He felt some anger growing at the thought that at the time this picture was taken, David had had his first experiments with drugs... if they had noticed. If only they had seen the signs!

'Dad, dad?'

'Huh, oh, what?'

'I asked what you thought.'

'It sounds great.' He said honestly, though he hadn't heard half of the story. 'Well then, we better go shop.'

The rest of the day was spent shopping for the stuff they needed for Davids room and some clothing to start with. Duo was proud of himself to find a cheap, though fake, wooden floor, but it did look the part. They bought paint for the walls, new curtains, a bed and a matrass and a large closet that will soon keep all of Davids new and fresh clothing. Duo was even more proud of himself when David didn't mind at all to help. Because the shopping had taken them all day they grabbed a bite at MacDonald and David was forced to sleep on the couch. David complained about it and duo was tempted to say: Aren't you used to sleeping on the couch by now? But he bit back his tongue just in time and for the first time since years he finally had a peaceful night of sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

'Yes, yes and when can you bring it? Today, oh that's fantastic thank you!' He hung up the phone with a little smirk on his features, he was scared to death when suddenly a voice said:

'Who was that?'

It was just David. Duo turned around. 'I asked for a large container to stuff all the crap in we ripped from your room.' Note that he said we instead of I. He had began learning to think of what he said before he said it. 'Great. It'll be here today?'

'Yes, we also still have to buy brushes. Forgot those yesterday.' He sheepishly said and set down a plate filled with simple bread with jam in front of his son. He watched carefully, looking for any signs that he might not have changed at all. But he did not mind and stuffed his face with it. Duo smiled, he couldn't help. He was getting what was left of his family back on track.

'Well, why don't you go buy the brushes and I'll load the junk into the container as soon as it's here. It'll save us some time.'

Duo nodded, stirring his tea. 'That's a good idea. They'll be here in two hours. I'm gonna take a shower.' He said, taking the last sip and leaving for the bathroom.

He took a long time washing his body and even after he was done he stayed under the spray for a while, just enjoying the warmth, not only from outside, but also inside. Maybe, if David was okay again, the judge would allow him to see his other children. How Hilde had her way when it came to blaming him for what happened to David he still didn't know. He didn't look forward to seeing that selfih woman ever again. Maybe he was wrong for blaming David all those years of the faillure of his marriage. Though it did deliver the final blow, he did not believe anything could have saved his marriage. Though wonderful in the beginning, Hilde and He had just grown apart... it happens.

Finished with his shower he got dressed and said goodbye to David. Before he left he snatched his cellphone off the counter. He still had to do something. In the car he put on handfree and dialed, waiting for it to be picked up he rounded a corner and was then forced to stop by a red light.

'Patricia Earnest.'

'Patricia, this is Duo.'

'Duo, where were you last night? You know, we do not appreciate it that you miss so many hours.' She said, sounding really irritated with him.

'I'm sorry Patricia, there was an emergency last night.' That was all he said about it, he wasn't going to get into the details, he was trying his hardest to forget. 'And maybe it was for the better.'

'Can I count on you being here next week?'

'No, that's why I called actually. To... resign.'

'Why? What has happened?'

'I just don't need it anymore. David and I have started anew.'

There was a long sigh and he knew exactly what she that.

'It isn't like that and it won't be like that. He really wants to change!' He defended.

'Duo, you've heard the other stories from the other parents... You do realise that... he might just be using you...' She sadly said.

'He isn't.'

'Duo be reasonable. Remember the story of Martha and Stuwart. He was just using them. Pretending that he wanted to change while all he wanted was a new car. And they gave it to him! Giving him that car was like giving him his death, now they don't know where he is. With the use of his own car who knows in which country he is by now!'

'But I'm not giving him a car! We're just redecorating his room. A fresh start.'

'Redecorating his room? So he can wreck it once again?' she sounded so disappointed in him.

'Patrica, I'm not coming back, wther you like it or not. David needs my undevided attention and by going to you he might think, like before that I am betraying him.'

'So he has power over you?'

Duo rolled his eyes 'What? No!'

'But you just said you're not going because of how David will feel about it. That is power Duo. Children on drugs manipulate. You need a sponsor.'

He was about to hang up but the 'You need a sponsor' made him rethink. Sponsor, that sounded like getting money. Maybe he could get a fund from the government? This room was costing him a lot. 'a sponsor?' He asked curiously.

'Yes, a sponsor. Someone who has been through this already and can give you advice. You can help each other.'

'Oh, that kind of sponsor.' He couldn't help letting disappointment get into his voice, but Patricia paid it no mind.

'Come next friday and-'

'I'm not coming Patricia.' He insisted. He had made up his mind about it. She couldn't change it.

'Please Duo, you need help. David has been digging your grave and now you are helping him! He's-'

He hung up. Shy was it so hard for her to be optimistic! She saw things just so black and white. For some families it did work out, if only they had faith in it!

His semi-good mood ruined he stomped into the stores and ripped some burshes in variable sizes off the shelves. He made a round through the shop, picking up a few more thing like light switches. He paid for them, the cashier giving him a strange look while she physically pulled away from. Sitting back as far as she could. He hardly noticed her being so 'scared' of him. He thought that shower had made him look a lot less scarier. Though the bags were far from gone.

He looked at himself in the reflection of the glass door. Taking a second look, he concluded that he didn't at all change as much as he thought a few months ago. He looked quite normal again.

'Have a nice day sir.'

He snorted and took off, only calming down once he breathed in fresh air.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

He oulled up into their street and smiled as he saw a blue metal container on the sidewalk in front of their house. David was just throwing in what was left of his closet. He even waved as he saw his father nearing in the car.

He hid his shock and all the other overwhelming feelings flowing through his as he got out.

'Worked hard?'

'Yes very. I was determined to be ready before you got back.'

He gave him a pat on the shoulder and they walked back into the house where they changed into old and ragged clothes. Since David didn't had any(more) he had to borrow some of Duo. They started painting over the ugly mint green walls with crisp white paint. It was silent, but not uncomfortable. The only sound was that of the rollers and brushes whispering over the wall.

When done it was already nearing nightfall. Duo fixed them a simple lunch and they ate in Davids room, not caring about the penetrating stench of the trying paint. And, if Duo would be honest, he didn't mind watching said drying paint all night, if it meant sitting next to his son, who softly talked to him about nothing important.  
But that was interrupted by an unsuspected visitor.

'I'll go get it.' He said as he heard the doorbell ring. His son mumbled something about going to watch a football game up in his fathers room.

He opened the many locks on the door he had bought after hearing Lindsay and Heero's story. He pulled the heavy door open, frowning at who came into view.

'Hey.' Came a monotone voice.

Duo looked back, he could hear the faint sound of his television up in his room. 'What are you doing here.' He hissed.

Heero gave him a blank stare, then slowly raised one eyebrow. 'Patricia sent me. She said I was sponsoring you.'

Duo put his hands on his hips, clearly agitated 'Well did she now? I never asked for that.'

'You don't have to, in the group, Patricia decides what is best for you.'

'what is best for me? Things are finally going well with me and my son and what is best for me is having you over, giving me advice! No offense but you'd be the last person on the planet I'd ask for advice.' He stated, though he did regret his words a bit. It was Patricia he was angry of, not Heero. 'I'm sorry. Patricia is being really pushy, since I stepped out of the group. I didn't mean what it said.'

'Yes you did.' Heero looked passed him, at the stairs behind him?

Duo turned, but thank god David was not there.

'It's okay really, you shouldn't apologise.' Came the same emotionless voice. Heero turned on his heels and walked back to the street over the stone path Duo had laid in his garden many years ago with his own bear hands. Most of the plants he had also put there himself had died. He made a mental note to replace them as soon as they were done with Davids room. A new start meant a new start and that meant no dead plants in the garden.

He watched Heero retreat with a nagging feeling of guilt as he watched him step into the middle-budget red car. He swallowed as he saw the scratches that were in the red paint, some of them were dirty words and he had a guess about who put them there. He closed the door before Heero took off.

'Who was that?' David just rounded the corner of the hallway and walked down the stairs.

'Someone lost, just asking for the way.' He mind swiftly supplied. 'So, nobody really.'

'Oh, okay. Wanna watch the game with me?'

Duo smiled widely. 'Yes, I'd love to.'

'Want a beer too?' David asked as he walked into the kitchen.

'No beer.' He closed the door of the fridge David had just opened. 'For either of us.' He grabbed two cans of coca cola, handing one to his son.

He sighed as he looked at it, but gave him father a small smile and then opening it, taking a long gulp as he walked over to the couch to fall onto and flipped the tv on. The first blank screen quickly showed the green grass and the players in colourful shirts as they were running after the ball that was coming dangerously close to a goal.

'Oh!' David called as a player in a green and red T-shirt shot, but missed the goal by an inch.

He flopped down next to him, but wasn't really paying attention to the game. The last thing that interested him right now was football. Patricia was still in his mind. The woman and the others at the discussion group had helped him a lot. Though maybe they didn't realise it. But if he went back, he'd admit being defeated and that Patricia was right, which she wasn't. He was smarter then she gave him credit for. He knew what he was doing.  
With that he nodded to himself, pushed the thoughts away and slowly fell asleep on the couch while his son was cheering and calling besides him, excited about something for one of the first times since he had gotten on drugs.  
He knew what he was diong. Things were gonna be okay...

Hmmm... I think I can accept this chapter. What do the lots of you think?

Remember, I am crimson Waterfall and my characters are never off this easily Grins wickedly

I WAS in a writing mood today AND I had the day off. The perfect combination you think? Of course the evil spirits here were against me as I had a major-report (meaning it was really much and really important) today for English. What, you might wonder. I had to make report on the news. No, not one... but five! Five hours of watching the news, then another few hours for the report... Really, who comes up with these things? If they want to know what's on the news why don't they turn their TV on? Nooooooooo, they HAD to hand it out as an assignment. School is cruel...

If you pray for the fact that i'm still in a writing mood tomorrow, i might just be ;)

Don't forget to leave a review!

... I'm gonna shut myself up now... 


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